Exspiravit et Magus
by MomoYoMaki
Summary: The one where Judar accidentally acquires a ghost.
1. Dead In The Palace

**A/N: It's not the new Reflection chapter, I'm sorry... Inspiration is slow there but it's not abandoned.**

 **I couldn't not post this though, it is so much fun. :)**

 **That being said; reviews are food for my inspiration, without them it starves. So if you would like more, be sure to leave a review!**

Chapter 1: Dead In The Palace

It all began when- actually never mind. I have no idea how it began. I just went to sleep last night. You know in a bed, in a room, in a house. House. Not palace. And I was certainly very corporal when I went to bed. Had no problems extinguishing the candle and my parents seemed to see me, same as always.  
Right now I'm sitting in a hallway in the Kou imperial palace. Servants are wandering past every once in a while, but they certainly don't see me. In fact, the one jerk walked right through me. Through me. That's about when I figured out I was a ghost. Ma always did say I'd manage to mess up death, but I figured she meant I would die in some ridiculous way. Like drowning in my soup, like my grandpa. Or getting squashed by a cartload of tomatoes like auntie. Or like my great great grandmother who walked away from a troupe of bandits only to step on a poisonous frog.  
I am part of the Swali family, and we lead ridiculous lives. Now don't get you're hopes up, not everything is as exciting as bandits and poisonous frogs. Mostly it means our costumers are very weird and if there is something to trip over, we will trip over it. Last year the ship we took to Balbadd collapsed before we left the port, due to one very small area of rot. The year before I stubbed my toe on a treasure chest in the desert. So pretty much, we just have very weird luck.  
But right now I'm more interested in how I managed to mess up dying. People don't usually become ghosts. I know, because my Ma knows, and she's from a family of shamans. She doesn't practice, but she knows enough to have kept me entertained with stories as a child. And ghosts don't exists because when your die your ruhk joins the rest of the ruhk flowing through the world, or something. But here I am. And I'm pretty sure I'm an exception because everyone knows people are always assassinated in the palace so I should have see at least a couple other ghosts, if there were any. Not that I went looking.  
Yeah no... I can't figure out what's going on.  
I picked at my shirt wishing I'd at least worn something nicer to bed. Might as well look my best for death, right? But no, while this was once a lovely little piece of work in a very bright yellow with pretty beading around the neckline it's now faded from the sun and ripped by an unfortunate encounter with a fishing hook. At least my pants are still sky blue, tied in that ballooning fashion I love so much from the east. No shoes, but then I'm dead, I shouldn't have to worry about splinters right? I wonder, can ghosts fly? That's what the stories say right? Can I touch stuff? I seem to be sitting on the floor just fine, but can't touch people... If I'm stuck as a ghost I should at least be able to haunt people, it's only fair.  
There's a doorway beside me, but seeing as I'd been busy having my own version of a panic attack I hadn't tried it. Had I been left a few more minutes I'm sure I would have gotten around to it, but it opened before the thought crossed my mind. Doors and walls in Kou are made out of an interesting paper stuff, at least inside where the elements can't reach them, so it made an interesting little schk sound as it slid open. What came out was a whirlwind of fluttering black and a swishing of silk, like a swarm of bats at twilight. They flew off like confetti from the young man stepping into the hall. He looked out of place in his eastern cloths but he walked like he owned the very air around us. I don't know if he was going for exotic or feminine but he was very easy on the eyes.  
"Well, hot damn." I might be dead but I can't complain about the scenery.  
Red eyes slanted to the side and pierced me with unwavering intensity before the last word escaped my mouth.  
Huh. Don't tell me he can-  
"Who the hell are you?"  
-see me. This guy can see me.  
"You can see me!" I gaped. "Are you a magician? Can magicians see ghosts?"  
"Ghosts?" He raised an eyebrow and snorted. "You're just a spirit traveler!" He waved a hand dismissively as he turned to stride off down the hall, his long braid swinging behind him. "Wake up already and don't loiter around here."  
"Oh no you don't!" I jumped to my feet and ran after him. He wasn't exactly fast so I had no problem cutting in front of him. "You don't get to say that and then run off, what do you mean spirit traveler?"  
Wow, this guy knows how to frown.  
"I don't have time for dreaming idiots. Begone." He snarled and before I knew what had happened he had whipped out a thin rod and I was blinded by a flash of light.  
I blinked rapidly as spots jumped in my vision for a moment and tears stung. Pretty boy blinked back at me.  
"...was that supposed to do something?" I ventured cautiously.  
That seemed to snap him out of his surprise and his eyebrows shot back down into a frown. He waved the rod, which was actually very pretty with a red gem on the end, and started muttering.  
I folded my hands and waited patiently until he was done. My mother always did say it was rude to interrupt people. Also that if you let them run out of breath first they're more likely to listen to you. I figured both applied here.  
When he finished there was another blast of light.  
"What are you trying to do?" I asked when the light again failed to do anything other then make my eyes water.  
"Exorcise you." He said bluntly. "You're damn persistent though." He stowed his wand back...wherever he had it and stepped around me, apparently going to try and ignore me now.  
"Mother always did say." I agreed and spun on my heel to follow him. "So, spirit traveler?"  
He sighed gustily, like speaking to me was some tremendous chore I had burdened him with. Jerk. I was the one dead here.  
"Some magicians are able to leave their bodies and travel with their spirits. Usually it takes years of practice, but every once in a while you'll find an idiot with a predisposition for it and one day they'll accidentally leave their bodies and have no idea how to get back."  
I mulled that over for a moment. "So you're saying I'm not dead?"  
He sniffed disdainfully. "Of course not, are you stupid?"  
I sniffed right back. "Really endearing manners there. You should work on that."  
"I'll make a note." He sneered, stopping so abruptly I kept walking for a couple steps and yanked a door open.  
"Wait, how do I get back to my body?!"  
"You just wake up!"  
The too fragile door slammed and I was left alone again.  
Wow, helpful.  
No exactly left with any other choice, I flopped cross legged to the floor in the middle of the hall, not caring about blocking traffic, since that wasn't really a concern anymore. I closed my eyes and tried to wake up. I concentrated on it has hard as I could, imagined my bed around me until I was sure I was back home and opened my eyes.  
Nope, still in the palace.  
I let out a frustrated sigh. I had a feeling this was going to take a while.

...

I think I'm pretty good at patience. Not the best, but my mother had done everything she could to drill it into me. But an hour of trying to wake up was the limit. So, I did what I probably should have done right from the get go. I went home.  
It wasn't actually home. Being traveling merchants, or maybe more accurately peddlers, we had been staying at an inn while we were in Kou. It was just my father, mother, and I, though sometimes we would travel with my cousins or aunts and uncles. I left the palace and entered the bustling streets of Kou, finding to my delight that navigating the crowds was a whole lot easier when you could just walk right through people. The streets of Kou are always fairly easy to get around with the way everything is built. Pretty much a bunch of squares, like somebody's board game. It's all set in a strict hierarchy, from the buildings to the people themselves, though I'd seen stricter when passing through one of Kou's newly conquered areas. Here things were a bit looser, maybe just because they'd always lived life like this and weren't suddenly thrust into a different culture. But philosophical thoughts about culture were for another time.  
The inn was smack dab in the middle of the market area, meaning I had woken up and fallen asleep to the bustle of crowds which never truly stopped even if it was just the merchants getting a head start on set up in the middle of the night. The matron of the building was probably the most cheerful person I had ever met, laughing and joking and always willing spirit cookies from the kitchen for you if you asked sweetly enough. She was dealing with guests when I snuck in but she seemed oddly subdued. Probably just the grump demanding cheaper rates, that would sour anyone's mood. Our room was in the back corner of the building and that's where I faced my first hurdle. The door. A very solid, very closed door.  
I stared at it suspiciously for a good minute before reaching a finger out carefully. I could walk through people, but was standing on the floor and not, I don't know, wading through it. So would I be able to pass through the door? Carefully, I poked it and my finger slipped right into the wood. I couldn't feel the wood at all, which was decidedly creepy. Curious, I pulled my finger out and focused on actually touching the door. And it worked. Maybe it was good thing nobody could see me, I probably had my serial killer grin on, I was so thrilled. I could touch or faze through things if I wanted. I wonder, did that apply to people? Probably not... Besides I really needed to get back in my body before my mother had a heart attack.  
Steeling myself, I focused very carefully on passing through the door and plunged through. To my relief, it worked. The feeling died immediately though.  
The room was empty.  
No bags, no parents, no body on the bed.  
It was like being dosed in ice water but at the same time I wasn't very surprised. Somehow I'd known I wouldn't be going back, despite the man insisting I was just spirit walking. It still hurt though. Like my heart was burning while my skin turned to ice. Maybe you could say I was being hasty since I wasn't actually looking at my dead body, but I knew my parents wouldn't have left me long once they found me. It was traditional in my father's family to burn the dead on the same day and then scatter the ashes over the sea. My parents would have long left to make sure they completed this one last thing for me. And I don't think my mother could bare coming back to the city I died in.  
So...that was that.  
Slowly I turned and left. Out of the room, down the hall, back past the kindly matron who's sad face suddenly made a lot more sense.  
I just walked once I got outside, not caring about the way people passed through me. Being surrounded by people makes it a little less lonely when you cry.

...

The Imperial Palace of Kou is big. Like, really big. I knew I must have been somewhere in the east wings earlier but that's about as much as I could remember. I figured it was as good a place to start looking for the jerk as any. Not that I necessarily needed another dose of that personality but so far he was the only person I'd been able to interact with. I had woken up outside his door after all; that had to mean something.  
The palace reminded me of the city and by that I mean that every hallway held an uncanny resemblance to the last. I wondered how anybody found their way around. I suppose they got used to it eventually.  
Now that I wasn't in a state of slow panic (ha, yeah right,) I could actually appreciate the opulence around me. Being the ordinary person I was I'd never been in a palace before, unless you counted that time I snuck into the ruins of an old Ream castle. Everything looked pristine, not a speck of dust to be seen, and the paintings hanging on the walls were fading with age in places. The merchant in me automatically calculated their prices as enough to buy my entire extended family houses. I was no artist, but they had to be worth a lot.  
The palace was surprisingly quiet once you left the gardens despite the many servants hurrying about and the entire atmosphere was somehow...tense? No, not the right word...moody maybe? It felt uneasy somehow and if I weren't already dead I'd be expecting to be jumped at every corner. My mother always said to trust my instincts and my instincts were telling me this was not a nice place. Oh well, luckily for me there wasn't much that could happen to the dead.  
I found the pretty jerk leaving the kitchens with his arms full of some sort of round pastry that I hadn't learned the name of. He really was a nice sight, I mean, you could cut yourself on those abs.  
His ruby eyes finally flicked to me and he groaned. "Not you again."  
"Aw, I missed you too." I simpered, falling into step beside him.  
"What are you still doing here? I thought I told you to wake up." He grumbled around a bite of bun.  
"You did, but waking up doesn't really work like that when you're dead."  
"I told you, you're not dead."  
I shrugged at his annoyance. "I am, I checked. Got no body to go back to."  
That seemed to interest him at least a little bit because he paused to scrutinize me. "Huh. I'm surprised you still have corporal form then."  
"It would help if you'd elaborate." I complained.  
This time he shrugged. "If your body dies while your spirit walking you won't be able to stay like this long. Pretty soon you'll fade away into ruhk, it depends on how much magoi you have."  
"Magoi... Like magic energy, right?"  
He sneered. "You really are an idiot, you went spirit walking without even knowing anything about magoi, no wonder you died."  
"Hey now, it's not like I did it on purpose."  
"I call it as I see it."  
"Charming." Seriously, had this guy never learned any manners? "So you're saying I'm going to just... Fade away?"  
"Yep! I'd say you have a few hours at most."  
And didn't he sound cheerful about it.

...

I spent the rest of the day following servants around and trying to touch them. (I couldn't.) It might not sound like the most profound way to spend my last moments, but let's be real here, what else was I supposed to do? I had no one in this city, no idea where my parents went and no way of finding them in the few hours I had. Following my mother's advice, (she gives a lot of it,) I decided not to brood on something I couldn't change. What happens will happen, and all that.  
During this time I discovered that while I couldn't touch people no matter how hard I tried, I could move and even lift inanimate objects provided I focused hard enough. I may have freaked a cook out by stirring the pot for her. Whatever, it's my last hurrah. And I was technically helping.  
Also, the butterflies. Or birdies. Or bats? The glowing things fluttering around everybody if I squinted. They weren't in the same overwhelming numbers I'd seen around pretty boy, and for the most part they were actually white. It was very confusing. Eventually they got easier to see and even fluttered closer to me, which probably meant I was gonna kick the bucket for real soon, but I was trying not to think about that.  
Later, when the kitchen bustle was dying down and the sky had darkened I wondered the halls again. I'd seen a few people who looked at least vaguely more important throughout the day, but for the most part I think I'd been in the areas where the servants worked their magic. Not literal magic. I think...  
This time I wondered further into the maze of halls, passing walls that glowed with candlelight from inside. When I was well and thoroughly lost I finally stumbled into an area which I assumed housed places like the throne room and receptions rooms. At least that's what it looked like to me, though I avoided the giant door that probably lead to aforementioned throne room. (I felt like royals would somehow sense my peasant presence. Weren't they like, allergic to normal folks? I figured I'd test that theory some other time.)  
Right now I was more interested in the masked duo. They wore head garments that extended down their faces, held in place by... Was that a ring of thorns? How did they even see where they were going? Judging by their matching identical robes and staffs I assumed they were part of some religious order. Like monks. I'd seen some interestingly dressed monks in my travels. Finding no reason to curb my curiosity I followed as they strode down the halls, keeping perfect pace with each other. Come to think of it they were even the same height... Must be brothers. They vanished through an opulent door and I fazed through after them. (This was never going to stop being fun. Ever.)  
I wasn't expecting to walk into Cult Headquarters. There were monk people everywhere, in large and small circles, bent over tables or muttering prayers to whatever they worshiped, all in identical robes, of identical heights, with identical voices.  
I backed right back out. On second thought that throne room seemed mighty interesting...  
The door flew back open, making me jump in surprise and I was once again surrounded by the explosion of black that heralded the only person I could still speak to.  
"Priest, your duties-"  
"Later." Pretty boy snapped as he stormed away, passing me without actually seeing me. I got a good look at his face though, and it was twisted and dark, his eyes dead behind his bangs. Sometimes if you're in the wrong place at the wrong time you can catch a glimpse of someone's soul. For a split second there's merit to the saying that a persons eyes are the windows to their soul. I don't know what I saw on his face, but it was as black as a pit in hell. Like my cousin after her husband died. Before she followed him.  
I couldn't just ignore that.  
I found him outside in one of the gardens. He'd climbed onto the roof so I could just barely see his toes dangling off the edge. It took some doing, but I managed to lever myself up from the railing along the platform ledge. The tiled roof wasn't made for easy climbing but I hauled myself into a setting position on the edge despite the chances of slipping. I didn't have to worry about falling and breaking my neck anymore. I waited for him to take notice of me as the stars grew brighter and the moon rose.  
After what I estimated to be nearly half an hour he finally turned his head enough to scowl at me. There was no sign of the darkness I'd seen earlier, but then I wasn't expecting to see it again.  
"Not gone yet?"  
"Nope. Guess you were wrong."  
"I'm never wrong."  
I turned around to face him fully, now that he seemed inclined to talk. "Oh yeah, and whys that? You somebody important, pretty boy?"  
He narrowed his eyes in an expression of superiority I'd seen on noblemen when they tried to barter prices with me, laying one hand over his heart dramatically.  
"You're speaking to the Magi, Oracle and High Priest of the Kou Empire. I could have you killed for your disrespect were you still alive."  
"Lady killer, huh? Got yourself a reputation for that?" Then the rest of his sentence caught up with me and I gaped. "Magi? Really?!"  
Now that impressed me. So those rumors of a Magi in Kou were true. How I wished I could tell my mother!  
"Is that why you can see me?" I didn't bother trying to hide the amazement in my voice, which had the added benefit of mollifying him some.  
"Of course." He lay back down properly, tucking his arms behind his head. "And I wasn't wrong, you just have more magoi then I assumed."  
"I doubt it, I think I would have noticed if I did."  
The magi yawned widely. "There are ways to miss it."  
"Well, you're the expert..."  
We fell silent again, and I took it as a victory that he wasn't trying to get me to leave again. I had no idea what time it was, but the palace was nearly dead silent around us, or as close to it as it could get, so it had to be very late. Yet I didn't feel tired. Another plus for the Ghost List.  
Pretty boy eventually levered himself up and dropped down from the roof with the grace of a cheetah, ready to turn in for bed, or so I assumed.  
"Hey." I called after him. "Do you have a name, pretty boy?"  
He turned so he was walking backwards and looking up at me consideringly. "...Judar."  
I grinned, finally feeling like the pit of despair in my stomach that had opened up this morning was gone. "It's nice to meet you, Judar. I'm Anastasia, your newly appointed resident ghost."


	2. A Ghost, A MAgi, And An Empress

**A/N: My beautiful sister agreed to model for me, so this story now has a wonderful cover photo!**

Chapter 2: A Ghost, A Magi, And An Empress Sit Down For Tea.

The next morning was glorious. For one thing, I was still around and had not faded into sparkly energy, and for another-  
"Judar, Judar, hey Judar! Guess what I can do?!"  
The magi groaned and stuffed a pillow over his head, batting at my poking finger with his free hand. "G'way..."  
"That's right, I can touch you!" I watched ecstatically as his hand passed through mine with each swipe. "And even better, you can't touch me back!"  
There was an animalistic growl and a blast from his wand that passed right through me and knocked over a chair but did nothing to stop my gleeful cackling.  
"This is so fantastic, I won't be bored to a second death because I can mess with you!"  
Last night had been dreadful as far as boredom went but I had valiantly managed to entertain myself until dawn when I'd finally gone searching for Judar again. I'd found him via the monks. They seemed to patrol a few hallways one of which was the one I'd found myself in the day before when this whole ghost thing first started.  
Inside I figured out that the Emperor certainly valued his magi very highly. 'Luxurious', 'opulent', and 'fit for a king', were all things that came to mind when I got a look at the place. I'd call it a room, but I'd never been in a room so large. I was kind of scared of what the Emperor's quarters must look like. The furniture was all done in that Kou style, mostly low stuffed seats with bright patterns of dragons and birds and there was one of those divider screens in the corner depicting a rather gruesome battle scene complete with severed heads and a river of blood. Lovely. That had to bring on the good dreams.  
I'd made a point of running my hand over every polished surface and gold lined edging in the room though I'd avoided the pretty china pots lining the dresser because the laws of the universe demanded I would drop and break them should I so much as lay a finger on one. The most impressive thing was undoubtably the bed. It was a thing of beauty, with luscious silk draping over it and lovely green and blue sheets even if they were wrapped like a cocoon around a sleeping magi.  
I'd wasted another hour methodically sorting through all his stuff which was decidedly creepy of me I'll admit, but then when have I cared? And hey, creepy comes with the territory of being a ghost, right? I was simply fulfilling my duties. There was a surprisingly lack of personal belongings among the necessities obviously provided by the palace staff. I'm not sure if the books and scrolls counted, they were obviously his going by the scribbles marring them but for all I knew they came with the How To Be A Magi manual. The only thing I really found was a small box in the corner full of knickknacks. There was a string of glass beads I'd seen sold on the streets of Balbadd, a tiny mask from Heliohapt, a large sea monster scale tourists loved to buy from Sindria, and many other trinkets from places I couldn't identify. That was it though. It was kind of depressing. Did magi have some Thou Shalt Not Attach To Material Objects thing going on?  
After that I plopped down on the bed beside Judar. Though plopping didn't really work seeing as ghosts don't exactly weigh very much. There wasn't much of Judar to see under all the sheets except his braid, which I was a bit jealous of actually since my hair had to be kept cropped short to keep the red mess of curls under control. This train of thought had led me to trying to touch his hair and discovering that I actually /could/.  
"Sadist." He whined when he realized his spell wasn't going to work today either. "Just finish dying already."  
"And miss the opportunity to drive one of the famed magi insane? I think not." I reached out both hands and mussed his bangs happily.  
He hissed like a cat and rolled away from me, miscalculating and falling straight off the bed.  
I peered over the edge at the tangle of limbs and sheets as he fought his way out of the mess. "Wow, that was graceful."  
"/That/ was your fault!"  
"No way, I refuse to take the blame for such a fail."  
Grumbling Judar threw the sheets he'd managed to escape from at me and stormed behind the changing screen. The sheets fluttered unhindered to the bed.  
"So, Judar, magi are supposed to pick kings, right? Are you also the reason there's so many dungeon conquerors in Kou or is that a happy coincidence?"  
Judar's voice sounded bored as it drifted back to me. "Magi are the ones who raise dungeons in the first place, you know."  
"Really? I didn't know that... So how many conquers are there in Kou anyway? The rumors can never seem to agree."  
"The three Imperial Princes and two of the princesses." Judar ambled back out, now dressed in more then his pants and fiddling with his bangles. "I'll get that Hakuryuu to capture one soon too though."  
"Five? And you're going for a sixth? Why so many, I mean, don't you just need one king or queen?"  
"They're king /candidates/, I can have as many as I want."  
"Okay, now you've confused me."  
A knock on the door interrupted what was probably going to be a scathing remark about my intelligence from Judar.  
"Honored High Priest?"  
"Come in."  
The door slid open and a maid bowed herself into the room. "Breakfast has been prepared, honored priest."  
Judar marched out the door without looking back and the maid made to start on the bed. I traipsed after Judar as he wandered into another room with a large table decked out in enough food to feed all my cousins and more monks lining the walls. I was starting to think they might not be monks after all... Judar flung himself into the chair at the head of the table and dug in.  
I noted a couple more chairs but they were empty so I carefully completed the rather complicated process of sitting in one without pulling the seat out and freaking out the monk dudes, which meant I had to faze through it and then sit solidly on it without ending up in the table. "I'm not stealing this chair from anybody, am I? Are other people coming?"  
Judar ignored me which, yeah, there were other people in the room who couldn't see me, so that was no surprise.  
"I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume you eat alone every morning. That seems like something rich folks with too much money would do."  
I waved my hand through the bowl of peaches. "But dude, where are you supposed to put all this food?"  
Judar ate another bite of some rice porridge thing but I saw his eyebrow twitch.  
"Yeah, yeah, no talking around poor normal people. Seriously though, you're too skinny to eat it all. Do they throw it away? They do, don't they? What a waste!"  
Like I predicted Judar was not able to eat it all, however he did make an alarmingly big dent in it.  
"...the heck? Where are you putting this all?!" I hissed, more out of habit then anything because, again, nobody else could hear me. Did I mention nobody else could hear me?  
Judar threw a spoon through my head and proceeded to pretend he wasn't crazy when one of the monks dubiously went to pick it up.

...

So apparently magi need to eat lots to replenish their magoi. They're like, doomed to be skinny. Who knew.  
At the moment I was stalking Judar through the halls of the palace, alternating between bouncing a pebble off his head in revenge for the spoon and hiding it in my fist whenever we passed anyone. This actually appeared to work. Yay invisibility. Judar himself was fuming, which I, being the cruel person I am, found absolutely hilarious.  
"Sweets, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears." I tossed the pebble again.  
Judar snatched it out of the air and threw it with all his might out of the window we were passing.  
I sighed. "You steal the joy from everything."  
"I'm going to find a way to exorcise you if it's the last thing I do!" He snarled and continued his mad flight if rage down the hall.  
Now, I know it might seem like an odd thought to have when you piss someone off, but all I could think was that this new stage of my (after)life was going to be incredibly fun for me.  
I wondered after Judar at a much more sedate pace, allowing myself to be entertained by the way everyone bowed as he stormed past. Considering the amount of respect and frank awe he must be used to receiving I could see how I might be a bit irritating. Ah, the woes of the higher class. We reached a hall stationed with at least six guards (Judar wouldn't slow down, I didn't have time to count,) who bowed Judar through a door and shut it on me. Literally, I was half through a piece of solid wood and I felt absolutely nothing. It was very, very disturbing.  
I extracted myself from the door with a wince of mental confusion and looked around. We were in a sitting room opening onto one of the gardens and sitting in the center of the room surrounded by monks was a women. She was dressed in the finest fabrics and held her head in an unmistakable sign of royalty, her mouth twisted into the most perfect smile I had ever seen and her fingers poised perfectly around a cup of tea.  
"Judar, what a pleasant surprise." She chimed with the voice of a song bird. The butterflies around her were pitch black. "And who did you bring with you?" Her pretty grey eyes slid over to me.  
And here I thought I'd be happy if another person could see me... Nope, definitely not happy about this, though I'll be damned if I know why. Am I developing a sixth sense?  
"I've got a pest problem." Judar declared. He threw himself down across from the lady at the table, no obvious sign of respect in sight, and jabbed his thumb at me over his shoulder. "I can't get rid of her."  
The lady tilted her head. "Oh? A spirit walker?"  
"Dead and lingering. And usually worse then a chattering monkey." Judar twisted around to give me a look that was part innocent curiosity, part evil cat. (The kind that stole my fish when I was three.) "What, are you actually showing respect for someone? Well, she is the empress."  
Empress. Of course she was.  
"Have you tried banishing her? I'd have thought you'd think of that." The empress said lightly, turning back to her tea with a dismissive air.  
"Of course. It does absolutely nothing!" Judar exclaimed in obvious frustration, throwing his hands up. "She's like a leech!"  
That got the empress's imperial attention again. "Is she feeding off your magoi?"  
She waved Judar off before he could answer. "No, I can see she is not, her ruhk is too white for it. In that case banishment should be simple enough."  
"But that doesn't-"  
"Show me."  
To my surprise Judar did so without complaints, standing and drawing his wand. I made sure to blink strategically when he cast it so that I wouldn't have to suffer temporary blindness again. The spell rattled the doors behind me like a strong wind, and Judar turned back to the empress expectantly.  
Her Ladyship Of All Things Perfect And Pretty was looking at me like I was her next meal, which quite frankly was making a sick feeling twist in my stomach. She lifted the little pot of tea and gestured daintily to the empty spot beside Judar. "Come, won't you join us?"  
I probably should have felt incredibly honored to be invited to tea with an empress, but somehow I felt like speaking or moving would be admitting defeat. What exactly the battle was, I had no idea.  
I made no move to join them, the empress didn't retract her hand, and Judar gulped his tea.  
Finally, the empress lowered her hand and went back to her tea. "I wouldn't be bothered, Judar. Her mind is strong to linger this long, but she will fade soon enough. It is a small matter, and you have more important things to see to. The dungeon in Qishan needs looking into. You will accompany Markkito."  
Judar downed the last of his tea with an ill concealed grimace of distaste and stood to leave. I could see him frowning at me from the corner of my eye as he stalked out and I was too happy to follow.  
I really did not like the way the Empress was looking at me.

...

"Alright, what is her deal, and is ruhk related to the butterflies and bats?"  
"Damn, and here I was hoping you'd been struck mute."  
Judar was stomping down the hall like he wanted to put holes through it and I felt decidedly light footed walking next to him.  
"Not in this lifetime. Err, afterlifetime."  
Judar snorted and reiterated. "What were you doing back there?"  
I shrugged. "Drawing battle lines."  
"Battle lines." He repeated flatly.  
"Hey, don't look at me, she started it." I wasn't going to mention that those battle lines were probably more then a joke. Now I just needed to figure out what we were fighting about... "Answer for answer, start talking."  
Judar muttered something under his breath that was probably very rude. "Empress Ren Gyokuen is the leader of Al-Thamen, the organization behind this place." He waved his finger around in a way that was obviously supposed to clarify everything for me, though I wasn't sure if by place he meant the palace or the country. "The ruhk is manifested as birds, not butterflies or bats. Most people can't see them unless they are in unusual number."  
"Okay..." I said slowly, trying to process that in some way that made sense. "And I can see it because I'm a ghost."  
"There's no such thing as ghosts."  
"And yours and her pretty majesty's are black why?"  
Judar gave me a really weird look at 'her pretty majesty's'. "We deified fate."  
I did my best to copy his weird face. "Uh, okay?"  
I would like to say Judar enlightened me with a lengthy explanation but all he did was roll his eyes and quicken his pace to leave me behind. Yeah, real polite this one. 

**A/N: Review. Seriously, if you want more you're going to have to leave me something to feed my poor underfed motivation.**


	3. The Definition Of The Kou Empire

**A/N: I've had three people comment/review the last chapter (I have also posted it on ao3) so this is for them!** **Also, isn't my sister beautiful in the cover art? Not only was she kind enough to model for me, she also went over this chapter as my human autocorrect. Considering how busy she is, I feel blessed for every word she saved from my oblivious spelling mistakes.**

Chapter 3: The Definition Of The Kou Empire

"Oh my word, it's a flying carpet. A flying carpet, Judar!"  
Same as the last three times I had said it, Judar ignored me.  
"You have a flying carpet! This almost makes dying worth while. Of course, my mother would box me 'round the ears if she heard me say that, but really, a flying carpet!"  
After taking our leave of her Oh So Pretty And Gracious Majesty, Judar had met up with (interrupted what looked like a very important meeting to kidnap) the man (creepy monk dude) known as Markkito and sent for (shouted abuse until the servants ran) his carpet to go 'look into' this dungeon in Qishan.  
I was staunchly ignoring the creepy monk dude Markkito almost as stubbornly as Judar was ignoring me, made significantly easier by the fact that the man didn't even know I was there. Also by the fact that the beautiful specimen of carpet we were riding on could /fly/.  
"You are truly the epitome of carpeted perfection, my friend." I told it lovingly as I stroked my fingers through the tassels lining the edge. "You are deserving of a name of equal magnificence to your splendor. Thy name shall be Jimmy."  
Judar choked and started coughing.  
"Oh no, don't you listen to him!" I cooed at Jimmy. "You have inherited this name from my great great grandfather, a truly exemplary man up to his tragic demise at the hands of a crayfish. Judar really, if you keep hacking like that you'll pass out."  
I'd never seen a dungeon before. (Yes, I'm changing the subject. Judar coughing himself into an early death is boring.) I'd seen the old sights of a couple (traveling merchant, remember?) but that was significantly less overwhelming than an actual tower. This one had attracted enough people to found it's own town. (Not that others didn't, but people didn't tend to stick around once they'd, you know, died. Unlike me.)  
Being a traveling merchant (did I mention that before?) had raised me to be a culture lover and planning appreciator. I had learned at a very early age (four years old, lost in a brothel in Balbadd,) that there is a code you need to follow.  
1: Procure a map. (Seriously, do not step off the ship without a map.)  
2: Study the map. (My uncle seems to be a under the impression that maps are some sort of accessory and not a valuable consultant to survival in a foreign country.)  
3: Do not deviate from your planned path without rechecking the map. (I don't care how nice that cafe looks. Check the map.)  
4: Keep the map with you. (Spent a week in your new city? Yeah, you're still going to get lost at some point. Sorry.)  
5: When lost; do not ask the nice old lady for directions unless your map has been rendered absolutely useless. (She might be a sweetheart. She might be your new adopted grandma. Or she might be a witch with drugs under her skirts and seven bandits for sons.)  
Of course I had never had the honor of riding a magic carpet into a city before, but boy would my life have been easier if I had. Aside from the obvious perks of just flying where you wanted to go, you got a perfect view of the layout flying in. Qishan had grown in a tiny circle around the tower to start with, and as each new wave of hopefuls trickled in another circle grew to accommodate them. Like an onion. A dungeon onion.  
"A what?"  
"King Candidate, high priest. He is one of the individuals I have taken an interest in."  
"Right." Judar sounded simply delighted by this. (Sarcasm anyone?) "Well let's see what your King Candidate is made of."  
The candidate, apparently, was made of jackshit. At least that's what Judar said before standing and raising his arms like an evil angel and doing something that sent the butterflies into a frenzied whirl and the dungeon back into the earth.  
I think there are much more awe inspiring words to describe the event with, but I'm not a poet. The tower fell, not crumbling into a heap but straight into the earth, vanishing as if it had slipped under the ocean. Judar stood with his hands raised, his black ruhk dancing like snowflakes in a storm and the word Magi, a word that held so much power, that had become such an abstract concept of legends finally seemed to fall into its rightful place. Of course I had never really pictured a magi banishing a dungeon. Quite the opposite in fact.  
"Er, why did you kill the dungeon?" I squeaked. (I'm not proud of the squeaking. It was an intense moment, alright?)  
"Having that weird tower there was annoying." Judar responded and then seemed to realize he'd spoken to a ghost and turned to Markkito. "Right? The candidate's dead, so let's go home."  
"Of course, high priest."  
I turned it around in my mind all the way back, but I never did make any sort of sense out of Judar's answer. I think looking for deeper meaning to his words might be a futile endeavor.

...

So that was my field trip. Seriously, it was the only time for the next four weeks that Judar stepped outside the palace and by extension the only time I did.  
"Ana! That is not funny!"  
"No, it is. It really, really is Judar."  
It had been about a week since the dungeon, (okay, eight days,) most of which Judar spent in an irritable sulk. (I don't think he likes being haunted. Oh well.) Yesterday however, oh yesterday had been glorious.  
"Give it back, you bitch!"  
"Oh dear, sinking to pet names now- whoops!"  
Yesterday I had learned to fly. It happened after Judar, once again fed up with me, just up and floated away. Just like that. I hadn't understood what the word gaping meant until then. I gaped like the biggest fish you've ever seen for a solid minute. He could bloody fly! But more importantly; why hadn't I thought of that?!  
Let me backtrack; ghosts don't exist. Everybody knows that (except they do, obviously,) but everybody knows stories about ghosts anyway. And everybody agrees that ghosts float. And if ghosts can float, ghosts can fly. That should really have been the first thing I thought of. ...Actually it might have crossed my mind, but dying does tend to take priority in such situations. After I'd gathered up my jaw I climbed onto the roof. (If you're going to fly, you've got to do it properly. Live those childhood dreams! It's not like I'd die.) The first time didn't work, however I wobbled. Meaning, I teetered around before falling. Meaning I could totally fly!  
I laughed so hard I almost tumbled down the roof after Judar. "Oh my word, that was so lame!"  
"Shut up!" Came the muffled reply.  
Did you know magi are like magicians and need their wands to fly? I didn't. But I'd wanted to steal Judar's since practically day one. You see, he has this habit of twirling it between his fingers when he's bored, which is often. It would have been too easy to steal it any number of times, and today I'd given in to the urge. Why? I can fly! I didn't tell Judar about this discovery so the poor bastard was a little surprised when I snatched his wand and flew out the window.  
I leaned over, almost tipping into a mid air summersault (I'm not so great at this yet okay,) and spotted Judar spitting leaves from his mouth as he detangled himself from the hedge he'd landed in.  
"Alright there, hon?" I called. I wasn't too worried, the roof here was pretty low.  
"When I get my hands on you, you'll wish you were never born!"  
Yep, he's fine. "Original, but you keep forgetting I'm already dead." I blew him a kiss and took off in a new direction.  
"Ana! Get back here!"  
That's another thing, he's calling me by my name now. Actually, half of my name which qualifies it as a nickname, right? If I'm perfectly honest, I find it adorable. But I'll never tell him that. (Wouldn't want to ruin his macho self image.)  
I'm still unsteady with this whole flying thing, but it hardly matters because if I miss a curve I'll just keep right on going through the wall. Would probably drop the wand, but yeah, no real problems. This conclusion made, I flew full speed along the side of the open walkway bridging the gardens. A glance behind me showed that Judar was still in hot pursuit with murder written in his scowl. Ah, I love my afterlife.  
Sadly the act of looking behind you means you don't see what's going on upfront, which was my downfall. Quite literally, as I was suddenly hit with the disturbing feeling of flying through someone. It's the weirdest thing, like having a dry breeze blow through your stomach and it completely broke my concentration, sending me rolling across the walkway and Judar's wand skittering from my hand. When I opened my eyes my head was laying in the railing. Lovely. I picked myself up in time for Judar to crash onto the scene.  
"Oh, it's the old hag."  
"Judar, why are you throwing your wand around?"  
The vision in pink (and I mean like, a lot of pink,) stooped to dubiously pick up the wand at her feet. She was a pretty little thing with hair to rival Judar's in length and on closer inspection she wasn't wearing as much pink as I had originally thought. It was just the red magenta color of her hair that brought out the pink in her outfit and eyes.  
"I wasn't throwing it!" Judar huffed from his doubled over position. (Judar, despite his lovely abs, doesn't really have any stamina.)  
"Then what were you doing?"  
Judar opened his mouth, froze, grimaced, and went with his fail safe; aggression. "None of you're business, hag."  
"I was only asking!"  
"Well don't!" Judar snapped and jerked the wand from her hand. "Shouldn't you be cooing over dresses, or whatever you do?"  
The young lady sniffed imperiously and folded her hands back into her sleeves the way I'd seen countless noblewomen around here do. "Don't be ridiculous. That's what the maids are for."  
Judar paused and seemed to mull this over. "True, actually."  
As the two took a moment to ponder the villainous intentions of maids I sidled over to Judar. "So, whose your girlfriend?"  
My answer was an exorcism blast in the face.  
"Wow, touchy."  
"Um... Judar?" The little lady was looking at him like he'd grown a third arm.  
"Just a pest." Judar chirped with a fake smile, ignoring my snickering. Fed up with socializing (or me, probably me,) he spun around on his heel and marched off back the way he'd come with nothing more then a "see ya hag" tossed over his shoulder. To the girl's credit, she didn't look like this was anything unusual. I guess if you frequent or live in the palace you've got to get used to this jerk eventually. The little lady's only concession to her mood was an irritated breath before she likewise continued on her way, her chin tipped a little higher this time. I, of course, followed the grump.  
"Aw, Judar, your powers of conversation are as amazing to witness as usual. Come on, you can at least tell me who she is. It's not like this place comes with a tour guide. Though, someone might want to invest in one."  
Judar rolled his eyes but relented without a fuss. (I think he's reached the second stage of accepting me as a part of his life: resignation.) "Ren Kougyoku, Eighth Imperial Princess and Dungeon Capturer."  
I whistled. "Princess AND dungeon capturer? She looks too young and sweet for that."  
Judar grinned fiercely. "You shouldn't underestimate the Ren family, they have power and bloodlust flowing in their veins."  
"...okay." I said slowly, trying to imagine the little lady doing anything bloodthirstier then slapping someone and failing. But then, this palace was home to Judar and Her Pretty Majesty, I'd gotten used to weird. (Later, I would realize exactly how naïve I was. But that was later.)

...

It was pouring rain the day I met the Kou Empire's Third Imperial Prince. Despite only being able to interact with Judar I was not in fact attached to his hip, (I'm in denial, so sue me,) and today I'd decided to waste a few hours of my death at the training grounds. You might be imagining scenes of buff men participating in duels specifically designed to show off their shirtless chests, but this is sadly not the case. Training is a lot less glamorous, involves full armor, and copious amounts of sweat and stench. (Yes I can smell. I'm not examining the hows too closely to preserve what little sanity I have left.) The training grounds used by the Kou army sits adjacent to the palace on the west side, to accommodate their Generals, the most prestigious of which are of course blue blooded. It's simple to get to from the palace, you just walk along the polished decks that seem to run along all the buildings around here and provided you don't have a truly abysmal sense of direction you will eventually get there.  
It was cold in the rain, or at least colder then the weather we had been spoiled with in the last few weeks which sort of registered for me as a dull chill. I could feel it was cold, but didn't really get cold myself, you know? The cold and the rain are hardly worthy of mention as obstacles for army training however, and I could hear the clammer of sound when I was still a good three corridors away. Two corridors away the sound changed, I couldn't tell you how.  
The grounds were awash in mud and crumpled bodies when I rounded the last corner, soldiers struggling to stand or laying motionless in the muck. In the midst of them stood a figure with hair like blood in the torrenting rain, steel flickering like a sheet of ice in his hand as men were swept aside and scattered across the ground. Ten seconds, and he was standing on a pile of bodies. (Alive bodies, don't worry. At least, I think I saw one twitch...)  
His laughter rang across the space as clear as a bell across a graveyard. "You've actually gotten better while I was gone!" He hopped down as cheerful as a child and as light footed as a ghost. (Insert pun here.) "Again."  
"Yes, sir!"  
There is one thing I will tell you about His Highness; he is insane. Seriously, people don't just... Well, is there a word for slaughter if you're not actually killing anyone? And I don't buy the cheery attitude, the guy is definitely working off some aggression here. (Oh look, blood. How nice.) This time the solders who were too slow were left with bloody cuts to cement the lesson but they staggered back into the fray with surprisingly good humor.  
I...am definitely missing something here.  
His Royal Highness came out of the latest fight (one sided, very one sided,) with blood spattering his odd, too billowey, too revealing clothes (have you seen Kou fashion? They're very, very modest,) all of which I'm fairly sure did not belong to him. He slammed his sword, (horrifyingly large butcher knife,) into the ground beside him like some explorer claiming land. (Is it bigger then him? Oh my word, it is. I'd make a joke about compensating if my wits hadn't abandoned me.)  
And then- well, have you ever been hit in the face with a wooden plank? That's what it felt like when his eyes slammed into me, like I'd been pinned to a board by a typhoon, except this typhoon wore the face of a child spattered in blood. I don't care if I'm a ghost, I'll swear to the end of my existence that he looked at me even though his eyes swept on without pause and I knew rationally that he hadn't. There was something a little too focused about his attention, as if he could see ghosts through sheer force of will.  
I got the hell out of there, because, holy shit even if I imagined all that I am so done with Judar's taste in crazy.

...

"Judar, there's a maniac not-slaughtering the soldiers on the training grounds and he's like, really, really terrifying in a 'take me now' kind of way."  
"Oh, Kouha's back?"  
"Kouha. Who the heck is Kouha?"  
"Third Imperial Prince, General of the Western Subjugation Army, Dungeon Capture, blah blah blah."  
"...are all the baby royals this accomplished?"  
"Nah, Kouha and Kougyoku are the youngest. I'll get that Hakuryuu brat one day, though."  
"Who is- no, never mind, my brain has to recover first."  
"You're so dramatic."  
"I don't want to here that from you."

...

Sometimes, not often, Judar would vanish with one of the monks. I left him to it, having no wish to spend any more time with the odd organization or their leader the Empress. Usually Judar came back and was his normal irritating self. Sometimes he came with splatters of red on the hem of his pants and an unhinged gleam in his eye making him laugh often and more shrilly. (I didn't ask about any of it. I'm not stupid.)  
Today he didn't come back at the usual time and when I found him he was already asleep under his heap of silk sheets. (He always sleeps like it's the dead of winter.) I didn't think anything of it, well, nothing more then usual anyway, not until he started to shiver. It as a very light shaking, like he was actually cold under all that fabric. The sudden thrashing however meant nightmare. Now I've seen nightmares before, had them, seen others have them, all of it. Despite what you might think, they aren't usually violent. You're asleep after all, if you start moving around you're going to wake yourself up.  
Judar didn't wake up.  
He didn't wake when his hands clawed at the sheets, didn't wake when they ripped or when his back arched off the bed and he screamed. Or, should have screamed. His mouth gapped open but there was absolute nothing but dead silence in the room.  
"Judar!" I threw myself onto the bed and grabbed his arm. "Hey, Judar, wake up!"  
At my shout his eyes snapped open and I saw the lack of coherency in them as he silently gasped or screamed. Then he was fumbling his wand and I thought for a moment he was going to fight me off in some half asleep attempt to defend himself, but his shaky aim pointed it at his own throat instead. The thought of 'shit, is he suicidal?' passed through my mind but then he was coughing and I realized he'd done something to his voice.  
"What?" He rasped, as if there was nothing unusual about being woken from a nightmare in the early hours of morning. And I realized suddenly that maybe there wasn't. Why else would he spell his own voice away before going to sleep?  
"You were going to destroy more then just your sheets if you kept going."  
He blinked slowly at me, as if I'd spoken in Toran. "Oh."  
I didn't let go of my death grip on his arm, a little worried by the lack of response I was getting from him. Let's try a different angle then. "Do you always spell away you're voice before bed?"  
That got me a weak scowl and an attempt to shake me off. "No. Only for bad nights." His voice broke at the end.  
I pretended not to notice. "Why do you do it on bad nights?"  
"Why do you think?! Would you drop it, there's nothing more to know! Gyokuen taught me the spell ages ago, I'm not going to get it wrong now!"  
I let go of his arm, partially because there was really no reason to hold on to it any more, but mostly because I was stunned. What would you consider worse; the fact that he doesn't seem to understand that I woke him because I was worried about him or the fact that someone would teach a child to take away there own voice when they have nightmares?  
Judar was completely oblivious to my shock, instead climbing his way out of bed to the window, complaining all the way about how I'd ruined his sleep as if he wasn't stumbling and his voice wasn't rasping and his hands weren't shaking.  
In the end I did the only thing I could do. "Aw, don't be like that. We can play a game! Here, come light the lamp and I'll explain. You use you're hands to-"  
"I'm not making shadow puppets!"  
"Sheesh, you're so lame. Come on, I haven't even explained it yet-"  
"No!"  
Judar lit the lamp anyway.

 **A/N: And thus enter Kouha and Kougyoku.** **Review if you want more. My starving motivation can't function without feedback.**


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